The Doctor stood at the light box and examined the x-rays. He wasn't an orthopedic surgeon but he could see a clear defensive fracture in her distal radial ulna and a tear in her biceps tendon probably from swinging a wild roundhouse or being spun roughly. But the greater part of her injuries were similar to a car crash survivor. The bits of glass he'd found in her cuts suggested it was the most probable occurrence but the injuries had already started healing. He'd put the actual accident at five days ago. Then the man that dropped her off said she'd popped out of the woods in the middle of nowhere. They were near enough an airbase where she could have been a downed pilot but she was dressed in civvies.
It would also explain her tight-lipped cooperation. The therapist he'd called in from the next parish made no headway on breaking down her 'blackout'. If she really couldn't remember anything than she was hindering her own recovery by refusing to give them any information.
When he'd staved off her phone call as long as he could he finally asked her not to make the call. "Please, don't misunderstand. I don't feel that you could benefit from calling him."
"What do you mean by that?"
"I mean… There are shelters and all kinds of help we could get you. A lot of families here would be glad to give you room and board so you don't have to go back."
She'd smiled so patronizingly. "The man I'm calling is a respected Air Force representative in Washington D.C. He and my father served in Nam together and harm is the last thing he'd wish me. There is no one on this planet—no one, I trust more."
She'd said it with such conviction and he believed her. She was quiet afterwards, nervous. The doctor returned the x-rays to the file and picked up his cold coffee.
"Excuse me, Doc. Name's Jack O'Neill. You got a friend of mine locked up here?"
The doctor turned to see the aging man in flannel waiting on his reply. He was at least in his 60s but his back was straight and his stance strong. The doctor tentatively offered his hand and gauged the firm handshake.
"Not exactly how I'd expect a D.C. man to dress. More over a general."
"How about you, Doc? Don't imagine they encouraged fly vests and wading boots in med school. Not that I blame you. How's my girl?"
The two were quickly talking lures between snippets of Lennah's medical report.
"Gotta tell you, General, this one's a funny one. Comes in with a broken arm and whiplash and a smile. I don't get that often. I just want to be sure she's going to be safe and looked after where ever she's going."
The General smiled and nodded his head. "I got a city's worth of people waiting by the phone for me to tell them we're on our way back. She'll be fine, Doc, don't worry about that."
He wanted to believe him but the men in black suits that confiscated all the copies of her records and blotted her name off every list did little to assure him.
. . .
Lennah held her bag of cut up and filthy clothes as she sat in the front seat. She was wearing a set of white pajamas the therapist had given her. It was supposed to bond them but it just made her feel one step closer to the loony bin.
They were quiet for a while as Jack drove. The second black SUV following closely behind. Jack handed her a Gatorade and ho-hos. Better than Mom's care package. She could tell from the road signs they were getting quite close to Cheyenne Mountain.
"Jack?" she asked as they started down the road after filling up. NORAD was fifteen minutes away.
"Yes, Colare?" He replied.
"Am I in trouble?"
"You're okay." He looked over at her. "I got your back."
She smiled and tears flooded and spilled over. "Dad always said you would." She covered her face and got herself back in order as they pulled up to the front gate.
People kind of looked at her. Security and anyone they passed in the halls as they made their way from one elevator to the next to Level 27. She'd seen herself in the polished metal of one of the cabinets in the Doctor's office. She had bruises, a fading black eye, and cuts in addition to the cast and scabbed over knuckles.
Lennah wondered if they knew more about what happened than she did.
Jack looked at her as they stepped up to the Observance room where he'd debriefed and been debriefed so many times: most routine, some infuriating and often hopeless. But so many good times. He put a hand on her shoulder and nodded. Quite suddenly he pulled her in for a quick squeeze and then opened the door and pushed her in.